The relief of spring
intoxication of summer rain
the clearness of fall
how winter makes me reconsider it all
The changing of the seasons, to me, is a journey of mind, heart and spirit. Winter is a time of contemplation, in many ways. Winter is also my enemy. I cannot work, I barely get anything done. Longing for silence I hide, have another coffee and just want to write and read. I let it all build up, take it all in.
Just when I wonder what the hell is wrong with me, the first warm day arrives, I open the windows and paint it all out.
Contemplation is, I guess, necessary for a creative soul. Art begins where resistance is overcome. Art is not a thing, it's a way.
Khaled Hosseini, author of 'the Kite Runner':
"You write because you have an idea in your mind that feels so genuine, so important, so true. And yet, by the time this idea passes through the different filters of your mind, and into your hand, and onto the page or computer screen- it becomes distorted, and it's been diminished. The writing you end up with is an approximation, if you're lucky, of whatever it was you really wanted to say. When this happens, it's quite a sobering reminder of your limitations as a writer.
But that's what art is for- for both reader and writer to overcome their respective limitations and encouter something true. It seems miraculous, doesn't it? That somebody can articulate something clearly and beautifully that exists inside you, something shrouded in impenetrable fog. Great art reaches through the fog, towards this secret heart- and it shows it to you, holds it before you. It's a revelatory, incredibly moving experience when this happens. You feel understood. You feel heard. That's why we come to art- we feel less alone. We are less alone. You see, through art, that others have felt the way you have- and you feel better."